


First Impressions

by VulpesVulpes713



Series: Fictober 2018 [16]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Fictober, First Impressions, First Meetings, Idiots in Love, Lance is an idiot, M/M, Modern AU, klance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-10
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-08-21 17:31:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16580936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VulpesVulpes713/pseuds/VulpesVulpes713
Summary: Prompt:“Do we really have to do this again?”





	First Impressions

The day starts with him getting mugged.

A great start really. Just fantastic.

He honestly couldn’t think of a better way to begin his Monday.

Lance feels a shiver run over his arms as he recounts the events to Hunk at work, having ran there from the bus stop at full throttle.

“-I swear Hunk he was the shadiest guy you’ve ever seen. Long black hair hiding his face, horrible scar across his cheek, dark eyes that felt like they were drilling holes in my skull-”

“You should call the police then,” Hunk replies, sipping from his drink. “Especially with a description like that. They’d find him in no time.”

“No kidding, but there’s no need.” Lance waves him off, and Hunk frowns.

“Didn’t he take your wallet?”

Lance shakes his head, feeling smug as he does.

“He tried to. Came up behind me all menacing and creepy and ‘your wallet’. Not even asking! Just demanding! So not only is he scary as hell but he’s rude also!”

“So….” Hunk drawls, rolling his hand for Lance to elaborate. “He didn’t take it?”

“Nope! I ran off before he could! It’s right-”

But when he feels over his pant pocket he finds it empty. And when he searches his coat it’s the same result.

“Oh that fu-” he stops, mouth dropping open in disbelief. “He  _pickpocketed_  me!”

“What?”

“He-he must have! My wallet-”

“So it  _is_  gone?” Hunk raises a brow, pulling out his phone. “Want me to call-”

_“Mr. McClain you have a call on line one.”_

He blinks as the intercom echos through the office, standing as he takes his coffee cup back to his desk. Hunk follows, phone still at the ready.

“I can call if you want dude,” he offers, and Lance smiles.

“Lemme take this first, then I’ll file a report. Thanks though.”

Hunk nods, clapping him on the shoulder before heading over to his cubicle.

Lance watches him go, then sighs as he sits to take his call.

“Lance McClain here, how can I help-”

 _“Finally found you,”_ a voice cuts him off, deep and horrifyingly familiar.

_Is it-no…it can’t-_

“Are you the…guy from this morning?”

_“Yeah-”_

_Oh fu-why is he calling me?! What does he want?!_

Panic washes over him, and he quickly searches around the room for Hunk, but his friend is nowhere in sight.

“Listen man,” he murmurs into the phone, hands sweaty as he pictures the look his mugger had been wearing. Those eyes…that scar…his entire presence had screamed ‘watch out’, and Lance had reacted accordingly by running away.

_But maybe he thinks of me as prey now? Especially if he got my wallet. I’ll be like a game to him…and all my info is there…oh my god…_

“ **Do we really have to do this again?** ” His voice is trembling, but he tries to hide it with his next words. “You already have my wallet. You can keep the cash and the gift cards. I’ll cancel the others but only because I can’t afford that kind of debt-”

“ _No, wait-”_

“-and if you want you can keep the wallet itself! Just send back my important cards-”

“ _Hold on_ -”

“-actually no, it’s fine. Just discard them properly and I won’t involve the police, okay? And just…stay away from my house and-” he trails off, foot tapping nervously on the ground. “I won’t do anything if you don’t, got it?”

_“I-”_

But he hangs up before his mugger can say anything else. He needs to assert his dominance. Show the guy he’s not as scared as he is.

He’ll just stay with Hunk for a few nights maybe…or-

_But wait…what if he breaks into my house?! I need to be there in case-_

“Hey man-”

Lance yelps, jumping out of his seat as he whips around to find Hunk standing by his desk.

“Woah,” he says upon witnessing Lance’s reaction, “you good?”

 _No_ , Lance thinks - almost says - but he stops himself. He can’t tell Hunk what just happened. He’d already promised not to involve the police, and Hunk wouldn’t hesitate to give them a call after hearing what had just occurred.

So he bites his tongue, and lies.

“Oh…just the manager. Asking for that report…”

Hunk nods in understanding, and Lance internally sighs in relief. Well, as much relief as he can muster given the phone call he just endured.

“Gotcha. Well I’ll leave you to it then. Still want to file a report?”

“Huh?”

“For your wallet-”

“No!” Lance exclaims, then hurriedly remedies his outburst. “I’ll do that. Don’t worry man.”

“Oh..kay…” Hunk drawls, but he moves back to his desk nonetheless.

The morning passes in a blur, with Lance somehow managing to keep himself busy despite the unease in the back of his mind. At lunch he declines Hunk’s offer of going out, stating he wants to finish up early so he can get a start on replacing his cards. He leaves for his break, but winds up at the park a few blocks down instead of the bank, trying desperately to clear his head and come up with a plan.

_I can’t call the police. What I’ll do is give him the day to cancel my cards. I know none of them have been used since I haven’t gotten any calls asking about strange purchases. And I can monitor them with my banking app._

_As for my personal cards…those are gonna suck to replace. I just hopes he does as I asked and destroys them properly. I doubt he’d be stupid enough to give them back in case he thinks I set him up. But I really hope he shreds them so I don’t get a call about someone down in Texas using my name and sin number to buy drugs or sell horses illegally._

He forces himself to take several deep breaths, and then heads back to work.

_I just gotta make it through today. Tomorrow I’ll take action if need be. And tonight…well, I’ll think of something-_

“Oh, Mr. McClain-” he jolts, and then waves off the surprised look the receptionist gives him at his reaction to her calling him over.

“Sorry,” he smiles shyly. “Too much coffee. What is it?”

“You had a visitor.”

_Oh?_

“Who was it?” he asks, trying to recall if he had any appointments scheduled for that afternoon.

“Some gentlemen asking to see you. He didn’t have an appointment so I asked what for, but he was hesitant to say. He said he would try again later-”

“What did he look like?” Lance interrupts, a sickly feeling creeping into his gut.

“Red hat, and oversized bomber jacket, combat boots and ripped jeans-”

“His  _face_  Nyma,” Lance cuts her off with a grunt. “What did his  _face_  look like.”

“Oh, um…like kinda cute? Emo-ish. Definitely rides a motorbike. His hair was all tangled and windswept-”

“Nyma.”

She rolls her eyes, obviously disappointed to have her gossip ignored.

“I don’t know…like, he had a scar-”

“Where?” Lance asks, but already he knows. He feels the blood drain from his face: icy tendrils of panic shooting down his limbs. But still he asks. “Where was it?”

Nyma points to her cheek, tracing down along it towards her jaw, and Lance feels part of his soul slip out.

“Right…thanks,” he mumbles, stumbling away from her desk towards his own.

_Why…why did he come here?!_

_Why-_

And with a gasp he runs back to the front, skidding to stop at Nyma’s desk as she blinks up at him curiously.

“Yes?”

“If he comes back, tell him I’m not here.”

Nyma frowns, pursing her lips as she does.

“Why-”

“Just, please,” he begs, and there must be something in his expression that convinces her, as she asks nothing further.

“Alright.”

He nods, and moves back to his desk with his worries amplified. And when Hunk sees him again he asks if something happened, and once again Lance has to lie and say it’s nothing. He’s fine. Just a tad stressed.

He gets very little done for the rest of the afternoon, which results in him having to stay late. He hadn’t really been lying when he’d told Hunk their boss needed that report. She did.  _Does._ And he’d not really worked on it.

So when Hunk offers to drive him home, Lance kindly refuses, mentally scolding himself for letting his day slip through his fingers.

_It’s all because of that guy! He’s messing with me, calling me at work….coming to see me…_

_God, what if he shows up at my house?! Staring into my bedroom window with that creepy look on his face and-_

“-Sir?”

He jumps, zoning back into the present as the janitor taps him on the shoulder.

“Hmm? Yes?” he asks, doing his best to sound composed.

“Oh, it’s just, you looked distracted.” The janitor gestures towards his computer, where the spreadsheet he was supposed to have completed is open and unfinished. “I called out to you several times and you didn’t seem to hear. Just wanted to make sure you were alright-”

“M’fine,” he grunts, then sighs as he rubs his eyes. “Sorry, it’s just…been a day.”

The janitor chuckles, glancing at his watch.

“More than a day, it would seem.”

And that’s when Lance notices the time. The windows are dark, and the lights in the office have been mostly shut off, with only his cubicle and the hallway lit. He stares up at the janitor in disbelief, then gathers up his things.

He can’t focus. And it’s late.

_I need to get home. I’ll come in early to finish this tomorrow._

“Thanks,” he says as he walks towards the exit. “Have a good night.”

“You sure you’re okay?” The janitor asks, looking concerned. Lance knows he’s not, but he smiles regardless. It’s his problem to deal with.

“Just tired. See ya!”

He leaves, and inhales chilled night air as he steps out onto the street. It’s dark - later than he had been planning - and every shadow has him on edge.

_Calm down. It’s fine. Just call a cab and get home. Keep the lights on. Close all the curtains. Lock the doors._

_Maybe I can call Hunk over to hang out, or Pidge, if they want…_

But it’s late now, and Lance doubts any of his friends would be interested in coming over.

_I really need to invest in a dog. Or a really aggressive cat. Something to keep me safe at night._

He shakes his head, pulling out his phone to call a taxi.

_Or I could start dating. Get me a strong girl or guy to protect me from muggers and home invaders-_

“Hey.”

Lance pauses, nearly dropping his cell as he whips around in the direction of the voice. But already he knows who it is. He recognizes it, from that morning, from the phone call…

He takes a few steps backward, before even seeing the guy approach.

“I’ve been waiting-”

“Stay away from me,” Lance warns, holding his hands out in front of him as he continues backing up. The office building is close by, but he would need time to punch in the code to unlock the door. He could run, but it’s a straight stretch, so if this guy happened to have a gun or any type of proficiency in throwing, Lance would be screwed.

 _Damn it! Why did I stay late?! Why am I alone right now?! Why is this guy_ obsessed  _with me-_

“Just wait,” the guy speaks, pausing in his approach. He takes one hand out of his pocket, and holds it out in front of him, mimicking Lance. “I’m not, like…gonna  _hurt_  you or anything. So just wait.”

Lance scoffs.

“As much as I want to believe you, you kinda  _mugged_  me this morning. And then you called all creepy-like and showed up at my workplace and-”

“I didn’t  _mug_  you,” the stranger insists, and Lance rolls his eyes.

“Okay,  _yeah._  If you wanna be technical I guess you can say you pickpocketed me. Smooth one, by the way. I had no idea until this morning-”

“Will you just listen?” He’s cut off, and snaps his mouth shut as the guy takes out his other hand. There’s something in it, and he holds it out towards Lance, who flinches. The guy notices, and sighs in frustration. “Calm down dude. It’s yours.”

“Huh?”

“Your  _wallet_ ,” the stranger explains, shaking it for Lance to see. “I didn’t steal it from you. You dropped it on the bus and I was trying to return it and-”

“Wait…wait wait wait-” Lance interrupts, pinching the bridge of his nose as he processes this new information. Because…there’s no way, right? He’s not that stupid. Could it be true that he’d just  _dropped_  his wallet and this guy was trying to be a decent dude about it? Because that would make Lance a complete arse, worrying over nothing all day.

“Can you repeat that?”

The stranger tilts his head to the side in confusion, but obliges.

“You dropped your wallet this morning getting off the bus. I picked it up and tried to give it back but you ran off and-”

“You came up to me  _demanding_  I give it to you!” Lance cuts in, folding his arms over his chest. “You said “your wallet’ and-and…” he trails off, hit with realization as he puts two and two together.

_Could…I have misread the situation?_

The stranger nods, as if confirming his thoughts.

“Yeah.” He holds out his hand again.  _“Your wallet.”_

Lance swallows thickly, feeling his cheeks blaze as he slowly steps forward.

“But…but your face-I thought-”

“My face?”

“Um…” Lance groans, shaking his head as he stops.

_That was rude of me. I judged him based on his looks. I’m the worst…_

“It’s okay man,” the stranger smiles, and it’s…well, it’s a kind smile. Nothing menacing about it. “I get it. I’ve been told I come across as intense.”

“No, no,” Lance argues, but settles for an apology. “I’m sorry. I…wow. I feel awful.”

“Don’t, it’s chill-”

“No, it’s really not,” Lance mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck as he kicks at a stone on the pavement. “I’m always after people to not judge a book by it’s cover, and here I am, guilty of doing just that.”

He lifts his gaze, staring at the stranger with the black hair over his face, the scar down his cheek, and dark eyes that feel as if they’re drilling holes into his soul.

But, no. That’s not it. Those eyes are filled with concern. Drenched in emotion and…and an understanding that Lance doesn’t deserve.

_I wonder how many times people have called him creepy in his life, just because of how he looks? I wonder how many rumours have been spread. How many lies._

_I wonder how many people reacted the way I did towards him, judging unfairly._

“It’s really okay,” the stranger murmurs, stepping closer and holding out Lance’s wallet. He takes it, feeling the guilt in his stomach twist painfully. “I’m…kinda used to it. I’m just glad I was able to catch you. I stopped by today after you hung up on me because I wanted to explain myself. I figured you would call the police even if I dropped your wallet off at the front desk, and I  _really_  didn’t want that kind of hassle so…” he trails off, smiling as he turns. “Anyway, that’s my good deed for the week. Have a good one-”

“Wait-” Lance blurts, staring down at his wallet in regret. The stranger stares back at him, and Lance nods, knowing what he has to do. “Lemme make it up to you.”

“That’s unnecessary-”

“Please,” he cuts him off, stuffing his wallet away and pocketing his phone. “I feel like a piece of shit right now for how I reacted to you and…well, I have this thing about karma and-”

The stranger laughs, and it’s a sound that Lance would never have imagined could be produced by such a grizzled exterior. But it warms him: wraps around him like a soft blanket as it fills the air.

“Don’t worry,” he’s reassured. “I won’t wish anything bad onto you.”

“Well,  _you_ won’t, maybe, but that doesn’t mean the universe will be as forgiving,” Lance states, and the stranger laughs again. Lance’s cheeks blaze, but for a very different reason than before.

“Alright, sure,” the guy grins, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. And when he does Lance momentarily forgets that he’s supposed to be breathing. Because  _damn!_ He couldn’t really tell before because he’d been so preoccupied with the image of evil he’d procured in his head, but Nyma was right. This guy is kinda cute.

Attractive. Alluring.

And even the scar on his cheek is sort of endearing, especially when coupled with that smile.  

So it’s settled. Lance inhales deeply, and steps forward.

“Are you busy right now?”

The stranger blinks, likely throw off by the abrupt mood shift.

“No…I guess not-”

“Good. There’s a pub not too far from here. Wanna get a drink?”

A pause: in which those same dark eyes scan over his face, and Lance wonders at their colour.

And then he’s gifted with another grin, and notices the dimples that peek out on rosy cheeks.

_Wow…wowowowow-_

“Sure,” the stranger agrees, and then extends his hand for Lance to shake. “I’m Keith by the way.”

_Keith…_

“Lance,” Lance says, feeling rough fingers against his own as they officially introduce themselves.

Keith smirks, raising a brow as he does.

“I know.”

Lance feels his mouth open, and his ears burn in embarrassment.

“Right, yeah…”

“Sorry,” Keith shrugs as they begin walking away from the office. “I had to look through your wallet to find out your name after you…ran off-”

Lance coughs loudly, feeling awkward about his earlier actions.

“Not my best first impression,” he confesses, and Keith waves him off.

“I know how it feels.”

Lance stares over at him in guilt, but Keith winks, smiling as he lets Lance know he’s teasing.

“Besides,” he continues, “I saw your library card photo and…well, let’s just say I’m glad you got over the bowl cut phase of your life.”

“Wha-” Lance chokes, stumbling on the sidewalk as his face flushes crimson. “That card is old!”

Keith shrugs, biting back a grin.

“Not  _that_  old. But it’s okay, your secret it safe with me.”

“Why do I get the feeling that you’re about to make my life a whole lot more troublesome?” Lance wonders aloud, and is once more honoured with another laugh.

“Call it karma?” Keith suggests, and Lance rolls his eyes as he feels his stomach flip. 

“Sure,” he huffs with a chuckle, scooting closer to Keith as the pub comes into view, wondering where the night will take him after the day he’s had. Wondering how his luck could have changed so fast. Wondering how someone as  _foolish_ as himself could have ever met anyone as sincere as this Keith guy. 

Wondering…well, wondering about Keith in general: about his life, his hobbies, his interests…

Wondering about first impressions, and how stupid he’d been for trusting them.

He smiles over at Keith, and shoots him a wink.

“Sure, let’s go with that.”


End file.
